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1: Weird But Definitely Not Boring

~Notes from the author~
Before we start, I'd just like to say thanks for reading. No really. In no way am I writer, by any standards.
I just like to think up stories/scenarios/fantasies in my head so I don't have to deal with the real world and then I try my best to put them into words.
Enjoy, please leave some feedback if you have time. Thanks. ✌________________________________________________________________________

This is great, just great. You think to yourself. It's the middle of a harsh winter in someplace in New York. Hell's Kitchen or something? It was a weird name but boring looking place. A passing taxi cab soaked you in the cold night air, which only just avoided running you over, probably isn't a good first sign for what's to come. You curse at it as it speeds off. You watch its lights fade away down the road. Your loose fitting, grey, tshirt framed a black paisley print of an elephant. The drenched material clung to your abdomen. You flapped it out to stop it doing that but it was no use. The moistness soaked through to your dark purple bra that could now be seen underneath and your khaki skinny jeans became skinnier jeans from that flying puddle too. You look down and exhale sharply. The smoke from your breath floats away and you hate yourself for not zipping up your long black coat before this soggy occurrence. It was sort of your fault anyway for not looking whilst crossing the road. You had your freckled nose in a map and stuffed a crumpled piece of paper with a scribbling of this address into your pocket. You picked up your aquamarine backpack and black duffle bag and began to walk up to the building whilst squinting up at the block of flats. As you get to the door and climb the stairs to your number, because of course the lift is "out of order". Remaining positive whilst shivering is unsurprisingly difficult. At least my socks aren't wet. That's a plus, no one likes wet socks.

Apartment 151. The door creaked open and you dump your heavy duffel bag inside causing it to sag on impact, and stepped into your apartment closing the door behind you. You stood in the small square hallway that leads into the lounge/kitchen/dining room. It's just one room with wood flooring, but carpet in the living area and tile in the kitchen area. It was cozy. The lights of the city twinkled in the distance through the large windows opposite you. Something about street lights in the black of night relaxed you. Those huge windows are why you couldn't say no to this place. You could picture them with long, grey curtains that touched the floor. You smiled and turned to your left to the bedroom door and swung it open, hung your coat by the hood on the door and tossed your backpack onto your double bed. You kick your brown boots causing them to fly off and lazily slid your duffle bag with your foot into the bedroom. You then made your way to the door opposite, the bathroom. A bath was the first thing on your to-do list. You could hear a noise but couldn't quite make it out over the running water. You turn the tap off focus on some muffled shouting you hear from down the hall, and then you jump from the loud smashing noise. Was that glass breaking? You leave the half filled tub and head out the door down the corridor and see a lanky man on the floor covered in glass. You watch him brush it out of his thick chocolaty hair and dust off his eggplant coloured blazer. You're about to ask if he's alright before being startled by a voice.

"Hey, wet-tshirt-girl. He's fine. Go away." This voice came from a rather beautiful dark haired woman. She brought a large glass of golden liquid to her full red lips and her arm made a shooing motion toward you. She was wearing a plain white tshirt, dark grey skinny jeans ripped at the knee, and black boots. The man hadn't noticed you were there until he held out his hand to you and you gazed down at it confused.

"Don't just stand there. Help me up then." He was rude but you did so nonetheless and frowned at him while he brushed off the rest of the glass and wiped his bleeding lip. His English accent was nice hear at least.

"Leave. Now." The woman was watching the man's every move. She approached him ready to show him she was deadly serious. The glass she held before had disappeared.

"Jessica. Please. I'm the one who commands people. Remember?"

"Do you want me to throw you through my door again asshole?" Jessica was grinding her teeth her eyes locked on the man in the tattered suit.

"Hold on, you threw him through that?" You pipe up. Wishing you hadn't said a word.

"What's it to you? I said go away. If you know what's good for you, you'll listen." Jessica is looking at you now waiting for a response. But you couldn't think of one. Her tone confused you. It wasn't all angry or rude it was more of a plea. The man is also waiting for your response. Both their eyes on you make you self conscious and you become very aware of your damp clothes.

"No she can stay. She kind of looks like you don't you think Jessica? Same dreadful style and all that." He says whilst ignoring your obvious trembling. His eyes examine you as he circles you. Suddenly you're very conscious of how tight your clothes are, sticking to your body.

"Tell us your name." He commands.

"_____. My name's ____." You cross your arms.

"Ah, lovely name. I'm Kilgrave. Very nice to meet you." He nods at you with a grin. The way he said it sounded sincere and friendly but you were cautiously sceptical. You force a smile back and broke eye contact. He seemed to only be asking more and more questions to get under the skin of this Jessica woman. Her large hazel eyes widened with fury and she tightened her fists.

"Where'you from? I can't place your accent. You don't sound like you're from here." He stared at you intensely. You watched him uncomfortably. His dark coffee coloured eyes slowly looked you up and down. You were very confused by his change in attitude and looked to Jessica for some explanation, then back at the strange man.

"Kevin..." Jessica's tone was a warning. She looked like she was about to rip his head off. Kilgrave's jaw shifted at the new name Jessica used.

"I'm going alright" He remarked and held his hands up. Whilst turning to walk away, he briefly glanced back at your soaked tshirt. He'd noticed the colour of your bra. He chuckled and you saw him smile only for a moment. It began and ended on one side of his mouth. You tried to ignore your increased heartbeat. Kilgrave strolled down the corridor. The two of you watched him until he was out of sight. Then Jessica turned and walked back to her broken door.

"Hey. Erm... are you ok? Do you want me to call the police?" You ask naively.

"Go home and dry off kid." Jessica replied and stepped carefully through what was left of her door frame and disappeared into her dark apartment.

"Kid"? We're like the same age. You rub your temple and head back to continue your bath.